


Reflect

by PoisonPrincess82



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Drug Abuse, Ed needs help, Ed needs love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Most likely OOC, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Oswald cares, Regret, Sometime after 03x14 and 03x18 at least, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonPrincess82/pseuds/PoisonPrincess82
Summary: Surely, you’d know.You’d know if I were to leave if I were to stay. Whether I cry or not, and possibly even the time of day. You’d stay by side till I push you away, but even then, you’re not one to stray.What are You?
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Reflect

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism ABSOLUTELY welcome. I honestly haven't written any sort of fanfic, imagines, one-shots, etc. in YEARS. So feel free to give me tips, please. This is the first thing I've ever written for Gotham as well, so it's probably really OOC. On that note I really just randomly wrote this, it had really no structure, and I just went with it cause why the hell not.  
> -  
> Also, I wrote this while listening to 'Say Something by A Great Big World'. It gave me the feels at one point. Feel free to listen to that while reading, if you like or if you can.  
> Thanks!~

**You are** I, And I am You.  
**A reflection** ,  
A shelter,   
An **I love You.**

**-**

_Counting, waiting, taking, faking._

God, when did he become a philosophical man? It was hard, he wouldn’t admit it, but he knew it to be true. It didn’t matter. Not much ever did. He apologized, true, but it didn’t quell what the recesses of his mind had made up. Even after he stopped taking the pills; the thoughts; the dreams, they didn’t stop. Sometimes he didn’t even realize if what he saw was real or not. It had been a while, the effects should have worn off, but guilt was not a side effect from the drugs he had prescribed himself with. He didn’t need two he was fine with one. Just one was enough. It was better than none. 

Just one. Just one.

_Just one more._

He hadn’t even realized that he’d taken another pill bottle within his hands. He swore he had stopped; he was fine. _No, he really wasn’t_. He wasn’t okay. This couldn’t get better; they weren’t supposed to. He didn’t deserve it. A happy ending of any kind. An apology shouldn’t have been able to fix it, he didn’t let an apology fix it before. So why now. Why was he forgiven; he couldn’t even forgive himself. The bullet. The blood. It was irreversible. He was happy in a sense, but he didn’t deserve to be. How long had it been, how long had he been sitting here? He didn’t want to be found like this in a sense, he didn’t deserve to worry him. He’s done enough as it was, but he couldn’t push himself to move. He couldn’t push himself to stop. Should he leave should he stay. Maybe he was finally shutting down. It would be okay if that was the case. He wasn’t at peace with his mind right now, if he ever was, but now more than ever. 

_“As much as I like being out and about, and running circles around you is amusing, but this. Why this is the most pathetic sight I’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing you in and believe me you’ve had plenty of those moments.”_

Maybe it was the pills, the drugs, or maybe he was just that unstable. Had he drunk anything? Who knew? He didn’t even really remember swallowing the pills, so was it too far a stretch to believe he had maybe been intoxicated as well. Was that why he was so angry? Or did he just despise himself or well _**Him**_ too much.

“ **SHUT UP**!” Honestly, he never knew that such a roar could come from him, but so far in this state, almost anything has been possible. 

“ _Whatever you say. ~ Just remember that I Am You._ ” He may not have realized when **_He_** had the audacity to show up, but he certainly noticed when he disappeared without a trace. _Thank God._ He let out a breath he never knew he was ever holding. Anger put to rest, replaced once more with melancholy. His thoughts were traitorous, dangerous even, maybe not even his own.

“Ed?”  
_Oswald…_

When did Oswald get here? Why was he here? Why was he, God forbid, _concerned_? Ed was confused surely, but it was if a switch had been flicked, or maybe a light had been turned on, but suddenly he could see **_everything_**. It was dark outside surely; he could make that out from the closed (for the most part) over curtains. Maybe he hadn’t been here long then as when he stowed himself away it was early morning, and still dark out. Though another few pieces of evidence begged to differ. He was right about his inability to realize his automated actions so far while he was, dare he say, out of it. The mass amount of empty pill bottles littered on the floor around him could attest to that. There were so many, _too many_. When did he? How did he?...

“ _Edward!?_ ”  
He was crying. His face wet, hands shaking. He couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. What was happening? Loud sobs were all he could hear around the room, they were coming from him, weren’t they…? He couldn’t focus anymore. When he had only just got his clarity and sight back, it had dragged itself back down into the dark pit that his once brilliant mind had formed. He felt numb. Then arms wrapped themselves around him. Lithe and gentle within their own right. _Comfort._ As his trembling slowly stopped, his eyes clearing. A sniffle or two. My God, he was _pathetic_. The arms around him seemed to squeeze a little tighter as if to not let him go. This was nice; this was okay, and with those thoughts settled in he was getting drowsy. He wanted nothing more to just stay there, with Oswald, and just drift. He didn’t need to think, just sleep. It would be okay, surely. Until he finally felt wet drops hitting his back. Oswald was crying now. He did it again, he hurt him. Grabbing the arms around his mid-drift, he untangled them from his person. At this, the other man looks up at him. Eyes hazy and brimming with silent tears. _A broken bird._

“Edward?” This is probably the softest he’s ever heard Oswald’s voice get. It was crushing. “Edward, talk to me. What are you doing here? Why did you leave? I was so worried. What’s with all the pill bottles? Ed? _Say something.”_

“I’m sorry…Oswald” He’s shaking and crying once more. Hadn’t he put Oswald through enough. They had their differences, sure, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible. They’re crying together at this point. Still holding onto Oswald’s arms softly by his wrists, until they’re suddenly no longer within his palms and wrapped tightly around him once more. This time he decides to latch onto the other man as well. It was warm; It was nice; This is okay. If only for now. With this, he squeezes back tighter. Let him be selfish just, for now, don’t leave. It takes a while but soon both are tired, exhausted. Worn out from stress, and from all the tears they had shed that night. It was time to slowly let go of each other. He couldn’t help but stare off while Oswald slowly lifted himself off the floor, his knee was now probably aching more so than usual now. An upturned palm is suddenly shoved in his vision, looking up slightly the shorter man in front of him help determination within his eyes. With a small smile, he slowly raises himself up. Grabbing his partner’s hand softly, gently, and with great care. He appreciated the gesture, but he was sure Oswald’s leg couldn’t handle his weight right at this moment. On his way up he picked up his glasses that hadn’t been too far away from where he had been sitting. No wonder things seem slightly blurred, and his vision impaired. Finally, on his feet, he decided to place said glasses back upon the bridge of his nose. Oswald seemed content with this, lowering his hand back to its rightful place by his side. 

“let’s go to bed Ed. We’ll clean up and talk tomorrow.” Slowly stepping away from him back towards the door, carefully avoiding the masses of small bottles littering the floor on his way out. He only just made it to the door,

“Oswald.”

“Yes, Ed?”

“ _I Love you.”_

The smile he received from the other man was all he needed. They’d be okay. He’d fix this, he’d fix himself. If only for Oswald. He may not forgive himself yet, but Oswald did. So he’d try. 

_He wouldn’t let his reflection bother him anymore._

**Author's Note:**

> ...Soooooooo  
> This is what isolation does to people. Welp.


End file.
